


All I Never Knew I Wanted

by Ellie5192



Category: City Homicide (TV)
Genre: F/M, this started as a prompt fic and ended over 12k words long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 20:53:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20121502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie5192/pseuds/Ellie5192
Summary: "...he has to be certain that she wants this forever and not just because, for a brief moment, she believed he was dead." - Nick deals with the fallout of everything that has happened, and he and Jen really need to talk about what comes next. Nick/Jen. Canon-compliant, post-show. Complete.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of this story borrows heavily from gabolange’s writings, which I highly recommend you read for some beautiful Jen and Nick content. I’ve tried to do for Nick what she did for Jen in All of My Tomorrows, and her watchful eye has been a great help in finishing this story with authenticity.  
References to the last two episodes and then set immediately after the finale.

** _All I Never Knew I Wanted_ **

~0~

**Chapter 1:**

The whiplash of the past few weeks will stay with him for a while, Nick thinks. The first night home in his own bed, he wakes from nightmares with Dane Majors’ words in his head; that he won’t be missed, that his existence doesn’t amount to much, _are you married Nick, or a girlfriend, better get a move on, life’s short_; and Nick knows that’s not all true, but when half drunk and fully exhausted it had _felt_ true enough. Nick has the Homicide squad and not much else, at least nothing worth laying down his life to protect. There are other things – things ordinary people want – he aimed for and lost along the way, and at the end of his second day as a hostage he started to believe the team wouldn’t find him in time and it’d all be for nothing. That he had given up any chance at those normal things for the sake of a principle that didn’t even matter in the end. He was still going to die alone, and his reputation as a cop was in tatters.

He should have pushed Jen harder; should have insisted he would leave Homicide to give them a chance. He should have realised that the job he loves so much is as fragile as a ten-year-old case and a bent mentor and a corruption allegation hanging over him. _How do you live with yourself_, Dane taunted, and in the swirl of his foggy mind, Nick’s only answer was _I’m a good cop and I work with Jennifer_. Everything else was inconsequential.

And he was sorry. He was so bloody sorry for himself and the choices he had made.

But Jen found him. And then the ambulance arrived and whisked him away, and Jen refused to leave his side, and Wolfey let her stay with him because she would need checking over too – a flimsy yet welcomed excuse. And then Jen was being interviewed just outside Nick’s hospital room, and the two of them were given time off. She went home that night because Duncan came and picked her up from the hospital himself, and she was back before Nick’s discharge the next morning with a change of clothes for them both.

It was Jen who drove Nick home, and held his chin as she cleaned the cuts on his face, and fed him watery soup and painkillers for dinner. He fell into fitful, nightmarish sleep with her beside him in is bed, lying on top of the covers.

Her body turns towards him during the night when he wakes from the echo of Majors’ voice in his head, and still they do not cross the line that might as well not be there for all the good it does protecting their hearts. Nick wakes again in the early hours of the morning thinking he’s still tied up, only to find it is Jen’s fingers resting against his wrist. It’s just him and her for twenty-four hours, time off to rest and recover. They sleep for at least twelve of them and they don’t have any conversations of importance during the others. They just exist in each other’s company and find healing in it, and Nick lets Jen take care of him a little bit and she does it without a word.

This is why the guys took their initial statements at the crime scene and again at the hospital; so there was no chance for them to _get a story straight_ in the time they’re both gone from the office. Someone must have known when she was sent home from work, Jen would inevitably come here, and somehow Nick finds their friends are covering for a secret that doesn’t even exist anymore.

Jen goes back to work the next day and leaves Nick at his place, with a look in her eye like a horse about to bolt.

“I’m fine”, he says to her, ribs still aching and head swimming. “Go finish up this case”

She will face an investigation into the shooting, and wrap up what could very well have been his own murder investigation, and Nick is very tempted to tell her to stay and hold her tightly in his arms. But instead he sends her away to do what they do best, and hopes it’s the right thing. His ribs and face are only bruised, and the blow to the head will need monitoring, but the headaches are already easing. Mostly he’s exhausted and dehydrated – nothing a night in the hospital and one more with a friend can’t fix – yet Jen set up camp at his house like he’d broken every bone in his body, and Nick let her.

They both know why, and they both know why she could only stay for one night.

Jen goes home after work and calls him to say she spent the day preparing his statement for the next morning, if he’s up for it. Her voice sounds strained and forced, and Nick struggles to get proper sleep knowing she’s only a few suburbs away and likely also awake. He’ll be back at work on light duties tomorrow, and he’s not sure what either of them is supposed to do about boxing their hearts back up and pretending like none of this – whatever this is – ever happened. Nick knows how she must be feeling; he remembers the panic that flooded him when Abbott’s bullet hit her, and the anger that coursed through him for days afterwards.

In the aftermath, they fell into bed last time.

Technically they fell into bed this time too, but old hurts and the importance of the job stopped them from acting on the same impulses. Nick wishes desperately that Dane Majors’ words would stop running through his head, and he reminds himself that on a good day – on a normal day – in the hours just before he got hit by the car, he resolved to stop taking this corruption allegation lying down and instead fight for the career he worked so hard to build. Which is why, before he sees Jen again, he stops by Waverley’s office and takes back the resignation letter. He owes it to Jen and to himself. Not being with her is not his first choice, but working by her side is a very close second choice, and he’ll fight for that too.

“I don’t want to lose you”, she says as she sets his statement in front of him the following morning, and he knows exactly what she means.

~0~

And then everything goes back to the way it was, almost. They are everything to each other, and yet… they are only workmates. And no amount of Jen coming back to his house at night just to prove to herself that he’s alive changes that, even if it was only the once. He wants it to be different so badly he hurts with it, but she doesn’t come over again, and Nick tries not to miss her.

This ordeal brought them closer together, but there will always be a chasm between them called _the job,_ deep and unyielding. They made their choices long before any of this happened, and until something changes they are both still at Homicide, and so everything goes back to the way it was. Nick resolves to just be grateful he’s alive.

And then Homicide is done for, and the thought of losing _the job_ doesn’t scare him like he knows it should. A week earlier he was facing this same prospect at his own hand, and it hadn’t seemed particularly scary then, either. Somewhere in the back of his mind are all the possibilities that have opened up now that the impossible status quo has been shattered. All that time and effort telling himself to fight for his career – having Jennifer telling him to fight for it – and it’s all for nothing anyway, and Nick feels guilty at how relieved he feels that the choice is out of his hands. If Homicide is gone, then it’s not his fault if he gets bumped back to uniform to write briefs and issue traffic tickets. He can stop worrying about the corruption charges, and the long hours, and the hit to his reputation that will follow him for years. He’ll have weekends again. He might finally finish the house.

And then Jen throws him another curveball – a possibility he knew was there but had been pointedly ignoring for fear that its unlived potential would break his heart. Just when Nick thought he could live with the roads not travelled, Jen tells him to give Fraud a miss, and in front of him is that old road again. But he isn’t excited so much as bamboozled. _Is that all it took_, he wonders to himself, as he ponders on her rapid turnaround. _Was being in Homicide really our only problem?_

It feels too simplistic, dismissive of the fact that Jen didn’t even talk to him before deciding that they should end it. Her decision to start again is just as sudden and one-sided. Nick wants to be with her more than anything, maybe even more than this job, but he needs something beyond just a quiet hint about not joining Fraud before he’ll believe that they can do this…

And then Homicide is saved and maybe it doesn’t matter anyway. They are right back where they started, back before Majors and all the turmoil he brought. They finish up with the whole Lombardi mess and drink a beer on work time to toast Waverley’s speech. Nick just lost his weekends but he gained his vocation, and they are all so joyful, the forty or so Homicide cops all milling around.

He catches Jen’s arm in the corridor as the previous shift is filtering out to head to the pub.

“Jen”, he says gently. “We need to talk”

He fully expects that she will backflip on him again, so it’s probably a good thing he didn’t let himself get too excited by the prospect of getting back together, even if it still aches like his bruised ribs to think about.

They shouldn’t be doing this in the middle of the office with people walking right past, but he leans into her space with his arms crossed and Jen doesn’t move away. It is reminiscent of so many conversations they’ve had just like this, deciding monumental life-altering courses in hushed tones and as few words as possible.

“I meant what I said earlier, Nick”, she says to him in a desperate whisper. Her eyes flick up to look at him, begging him to understand. “About us”

A rush of cold wind rolls through Nick from his hair to his toes, the knowledge that Jen is still willing to pursue this relationship despite Homicide being spared. He wants to know what brought this on; he wants to understand where her mind has been these last few days, and weeks, and he wants to know what she sees their future looking like. Mostly he just wants to kiss her.

“Do you mean that?”

She nods a couple of times with a look on her face like she’s trying not to feel the things she’s feeling. “I don’t want to lose you”, she says, again.

Nick can’t ask her any more at work, so he steps away with a smile. “Okay”, he says. He nods once, looking around, trying to look casual. “Okay”

“We’ll talk”, she says, and then she looks pointedly around at the people still celebrating and disappears back to her desk.

Nick ducks out of work before he can get wrangled to going for drinks at the pub with some of the guys on shift change, and Jen follows him home.

“That doesn’t matter anymore”, she says to him, when he points out the obvious.

And he accepts her kiss because he knows all the reasons why he will make this thing work between them, but their reunion is cut short and it’s just as well. This final murder is a simple one, pulling loose the last knot in this huge, unending mess that has plagued them for weeks. When they all hit the bar that night to toast their success, he laughs like he means it and lets gratitude at keeping his job wash over him. Waverley tracked him down at the office and told him he would be staying at Homicide regardless; a show of faith he’s humble to receive. Nick knows he probably won’t find that kind of loyalty outside of the few people who know the full truth.

But there’s only one thing he really wants an answer to tonight, and only one person who can give it to him.

“Meet you at mine in an hour?” he whispers in Jen’s ear, dodging another drink from Duncan.

She just nods, and puts down her current beer, knowing they are both still okay to drive. They’ve got two well-earned days off and a lot to figure out.

~0~

Jen arrives just over an hour later with an overnight bag in hand and kisses him in greeting, and if nothing else gets decided tonight at least he knows this is happening. Jen won’t leave him now, but they really need to talk through why.

They aren’t traditional people in most things, but there are some things Nick is do-or-die adamant will be done _the right way_. So much of their relationship has been dictated to by other people – how they first met, how they found each other again; Jen’s fears that they would be caught and their subsequent breakup. So many people had a stake in their journey for so long, both professionally and personally, it’s a miracle they’ve got this far. And now that they have, Nick knows he wants this relationship to stop being a fluke or an unsaid confession, and start being something he does _the right way_.

So they order a too-big family combo of Indian take-away and sit on the couch while the tv sits on low with an All Saints DVD flickering in the background. And they talk. They talk the way they used to before they went back undercover for SIS; when they were circling ever-closer to crossing the line but never did.

Rhys once teased Jennifer that she didn’t have a life outside of work, and it hit a nerve; not because Jen regrets the choices that she’s made, but because she’s deeply proud of them. She wouldn’t change them, and she needed someone to know that. So Jen turned to Nick for support, a man who understands her on a completely different level, and he readily accepted for all the obvious reasons. What eventuated might have led them into bed anyway – long evenings drinking in a bar away from other cops, going over the choices they had made and the chances they had given up for the sake of their careers. Convincing themselves that the job was more than enough, which might have been more believable if they weren’t routinely saying it out loud over late-night alcohol. Jennifer all but asked him out after the pirated-DVD case, and Nick stayed back to wait for her phone call to be done, and maybe if they were younger and greener they’d have slept together that very night.

But they didn’t. For weeks they danced in the in-between; not quite dates, but never inviting anyone else to join in either. And they talked and talked about all the different paths that might have been walked if only being a Homicide detective wasn’t their first and foremost priority. They talked about bad first dates and restaurants they didn’t have time to try yet; their first trip to the morgue as a fresh-faced Connie and the funniest witness statements they’d ever taken.

They never talked about the lingering, compounding trauma that being a cop could bring, because they didn’t have to.

Nick confessed his lack of interest in the family way, and Jen told him how she got used to batting away questions about kids, and the annoyance it brought all the same. She made comments like _I could see you playing fairy tea parties_ and he would counter with _how’s your backyard cricket?_ and somewhere along the way they stopped being jokes. Just before they got drawn back into Hartono’s mess, before it all changed yet again, Nick’s eyes started to linger a little longer, and Jen’s smiles became a little fractious, and they both knew what the other wasn’t saying. They both knew where this was headed long before it ever did.

But it took that second undercover stint and Jennifer getting shot for them to finally cross the line, and maybe that was always half the problem. Maybe they never figured out how to have this relationship when there wasn’t imminent threat to life involved.

Nick doesn’t want their being together to be an ultimatum Jen has to answer to. He wants this to be a choice they make together, unreserved and unrepentant.

“What did you mean by _it doesn’t matter anymore_?” asks Nick, breaking off another piece of garlic roti and dunking it in the butter chicken sauce. They’re on their third episode of All Saints and he’s pretty confident he’s about to get everything he wants, but this is the clincher; this is the one question that really matters. He rolls up the bread between his fingers and takes a massive bite, dribbling a glob down his cheek in his efforts, and Jen laughs at him and uses her thumb to sweep it away.

“I got a taste of life with you gone”, she says softly, her eyes flitting between him and the bowl in her lap. She looks like just the memory of it might make her cry, or scream, and Nick hates that he understands. “Now I’ve got you back… I’m not going to give you up again, Nick. Not for anything”

“Not even for the job?”

Her gaze flicks down and her brow gets a little crease in it. There’s a whole conversation going on behind those eyes that Nick isn’t privy to, just as he wasn’t privy to the one that broke them up months ago. But it’s not a lack of will, or a lack of love, that she’s fighting with; it is Jen finding a way to live with the choice they’re making by jumping off this cliff. Nick just wants her to _talk_ to him about it, whatever she needs to say.

“Jen?”

She looks at him and she’s steadier than he’s seen her in weeks.

“No”, she says. “Not even for the job”

Her voice is so certain, Nick wonders how many times she’s had to practice saying that to herself without letting lingering fears creep in. He loves her all the more for the fact she overcame those fears for him. She looks away and starts dolling out another scoop of rice and rogan josh into her bowl, and he’s mostly _fine _that she’s come to some private realisations, almost without reservation, if it means they’re together. But he wants reassurance that they won’t have to do this dance again, in three or six or eighteen months. Neither of them will survive falling apart again.

Nick felt sure he was going to die, and then like an angel Jen was above him and saying his name and saving his life, and he thinks now that he would give up everything to wake up next to her until he’s old and frail. Because the job means a lot – it always has – but it doesn’t mean more than the happiness their future could bring for the rest of forever. It doesn’t mean more than his _life_. Which is the one thing Majors said to him that really stuck. Nick doesn’t want to be forced into retirement one day and hang himself the next because he’s got nothing else going for him, and the risk to his reputation from Lombardi only reinforced that despite all the late night chats with Jennifer to the contrary, there is more going for him than just Homicide. He wants to remain in this squad, absolutely, but the thought of giving it up to have Jen in his future doesn’t scare him like it used to.

What scares him is the thought of having died without putting his heart and soul into a life with her, because he doesn’t know what the future will bring but he’s fairly certain he’ll be in love with Jen for the rest of forever.

He hates that it took another near-death experience to make him realise that.

The aftermath of his abduction was a whirlwind of solving the investigation, and of Nick pushing himself to get better and be back in the field and clear his name. And when it looked like Homicide was done for, Jen fell back into his arms with the promise that Fraud could have her if it meant she got to have Nick. Neither of them put up much of a fight, too keen to make their relationship a reality, and he doesn’t think that Homicide being saved should change the reasons for that. Which makes him hopeful she had some similar epiphany in the moments after she shot Dane Majors, but he has to know; he has to be certain that she wants this forever and not just because, for a brief moment, she believed he was dead. The rest of their lives will be lived in the quiet mundanity of the day-to-day, and he knows that if they’re going to survive they have to be okay with their choices in the moments between panic. Because he’s not going to lose her again either, not for anything, not even for this job he loves. His offer to transfer out still stands, no matter how unlikely it is that any other work area will take him.

“So we tell Waverley?” he asks, willing her to meet his eye.

This is it; her biggest fear come to life; that she will be called to stand in front of her mentor and a woman she respects, asking for things she knows she shouldn’t want, to set on a path very few women have trodden with their reputation intact. Plenty have screwed the crew before, and plenty more coppers have married other coppers. But not in Homicide, not like this. And it doesn’t make this any less daunting for a woman like Jen, who has never played those games and never been accused of it either.

Nick has always been honest with her about what he wants for their future; his proposal of marriage and babies might have been mistimed, but underneath the desperation he meant it – he never wanted those things with anyone before Jennifer, yet with her he sees a whole other life together, fulfilling all the things they once said they never needed. She laughed him off at the time, but they both know the truth of it and for her to accept him now means to accept his terms. Maybe she’s not sure yet what she wants in years to come, but this means figuring it out together. Nick is open to anything, really, so long as Jen is by his side. So long as they talk about it first.

Jen looks up with a nod. “We tell Waverley”, she says, and then cracks a small smile and shovels more rogan josh in her mouth. Nick tries not to show how hard his heart is beating, happiness sending a flush through his limbs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For imaidenpride’s prompts: “Bernice’s reaction to Jen and Nick dating”, “Matty walking in on Nick and Jen’s date”.

~0~

**Chapter 2:**

Waverley is less irate about their request for special circumstances than she is about the months they were sleeping together without anyone knowing, which is almost funny. It occurs to Nick, as she’s standing there with nostrils flaring and her lips pursed, that she’s probably just mad nobody noticed; they’re all supposed to be Detectives, after all.

Nick knows the timing on this sucks, and the last thing he wants after all the political brouhaha is to add to Waverley’s plate with their paltry personal lives, but this was always a non-negotiable; that this time around he and Jen come clean. And they told her about the previous affair to prove this exact point; that they can do this and not affect the job one bit, but Jen still hangs her head like the school principle is telling her off. Nick doesn’t know Waverley that well, and he wasn’t around when she lost her son, but he respects her enormously for the career she built and her fortitude in coming back. He respects that she unreservedly keeps him around despite the lingering stink to his name. Maybe the stink to his name will even prove useful; after all, what’s a tiny office affair to a man who has corruption allegation on this record?

Nick gets a hint that it’ll be okay when Waverley spins around with her hands on her hips and places one fist on the desk. It’s not the posture of a woman about to say no.

“I cannot adequately express to you how much scrutiny you two will be under for the foreseeable future”, she says. Her eyes flick to Jen, who is still staring at the floor. Waverley softens around the edges, her bruised ego giving way to the fact they wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious. They’ve come to her knowing amongst themselves that they’ll be married one day; that if she says no, Nick fully intends to ask for a transfer to whichever uniform station will take him. Or quit, if it comes to that, which he sincerely hopes it doesn’t.

“We understand”, replies Nick, nodding.

“Do you?” she pushes, still looking at Jen. Waverley knows better than most that it’s the women who take the blow, who make the sacrifices in these partnerships – to their promotion tracks and their superannuation and their time out of the workplace – and she wants to be sure Jen understands what she’s asking for is a very big deal. It will change a lot, not just now but also in ten or twenty years. It could mean Jen gives up the chance at Waverley’s chair, not because she has to but because she wants to; because priorities do change when a personal life is involved. Nick is almost certain Bernice might have made some different decisions herself, if she had known what the dedication to the job would cost her. But it puts her in a unique position to ask these questions of Jennifer and mean it with all sincerity; _do you really know what you’re getting into?_

Waverley wants to know if Nick is worth all of that to a woman like Jennifer Mapplethorpe, who has worked hard and put her everything into being one of the most respected Detectives around.

“Yes, ma’am”, says Jen softly, finally looking her in the eye. “It won’t be a problem”

“I’ll be the judge of that”, she snaps. “And I suppose you’ve told Stanley Wolfe?”

“No ma’am, you’re the first”

Which seems to mollify Waverley somewhat, that they came to her first, even before their beloved Wolfey, but she quickly casts them a pointed look. “Might I suggest his office be the very next place you visit? He may not take this news as well as me”

Nick very nearly cracks a smile, but doesn’t because he’s not an idiot.

“Yes ma’am”, he says.

“And Superintendent Jarvis, ma’am?” asks Jen, frowning a little bit. There are more people in this picture than she’s fully comfortable with, but it has to be done, and she always wanted Waverley to be the very first person they went to for a number of reasons. In many ways, they aren’t even here to be professional. Had it been anyone else, they would have gone straight to Matt and let the chain of command take care of things; this might be seen as trying to curry favour, but the three of them know that Waverley will have the final word on this anyway, and there’s history here. Jen needs her to be okay with it, and if she’s not, Nick needs to start canvassing his options. Waverley is the one who stops the shit running downhill and protects them all from the Braid upstairs; Waverley is the reason Nick still has a job to worry about. And maybe, in all the fuss and bother around such a high profile investigation and arrest, Waverley will be able to make this little matter slip under the radar. They owe her this courtesy.

“Yes, Terry too”, she snaps, and then sighs. “I’ll call him myself”

“Thank you, ma’am”

“Alright then”, she says, snippy. “Off you go”

“Yes, thank you ma’am”, says Nick, and Waverley points her finger at them both as they turn and start for the door.

“I’m watching you, Buchanan”, she calls as a parting shot. But Nick sees the tiny twitch of her lips, the way her shoulders lower, and he knows that when she gets around to it, she’ll be happy for them. Maybe Jen got it all wrong thinking she had to do as Waverley did in order to succeed; maybe their path will be the new normal, their choices the right ones in the end. Hopefully, thinks Nick, as he and Jen fall into step down the corridor, they’ll end up a hell of a lot better for it. Either way, it’s nice to think Jen has a woman like Bernice Waverley looking out for her along the way.

~0~

Wolfey takes the news like he does most things; in shocked silence and then with deep contemplation. They have put him in an impossible position; he won’t want to get rid of either of them now that Homicide has been spared the wrath, but there is no precedent for keeping them together either. It will be up to him and Matt to manage them in the unit, and it will fall on Wolfe if it all goes tits-up. Nick desperately wants to prove to him that they can do this.

Wolfe repeats Waverley’s promise that they’ll be under so much scrutiny they might as well check air vents for cameras, but he waves them away anyway. He closes his door and picks up his phone, and Nick imagines he’s calling the woman upstairs to talk this through. Or maybe he’s calling Jarvis, and then all three of them can commiserate together. Let them talk, he thinks, just so long as he and Jen get to continue sharing office space and cups of tea and a bed, he doesn’t care.

They agree to keep this quiet for now from the rest of the team, including Matt. “Tell them when you like, but I would suggest waiting a short while”, were Wolfe’s exact words. It plays well; everyone is still celebrating the outcome of one of Homicide’s most harrowing times, it won’t do any good to kick up more dust.

And maybe Wolfe is giving this a chance to fall apart naturally and without collateral, but Nick pays that no attention at all. One day, and hopefully soon, it will become apparent to everyone that life is so much better when he and Jennifer are together; that they’ve been moving steadily towards this outcome in a convoluted dance of back and forth for years. It’s not like they’re young and stupid and impulsive. They’ve decided they want this and they want Homicide at the same time, and perhaps some people will call it selfish but Nick doesn’t see it that way. He imagines Jen might – that some of her fears were rooted in the optics of wanting her cake and eating it too – but if he has to, he’ll spend the rest of his life making her see that this job doesn’t have to be everything. That they can’t take it with them when they go. That it’s important and fun and rewarding and challenging, but it’s not the end of the road, and it won’t be there for them when they’re old and grey and tired of the fight.

He wants the chance to grow old and grey with Jen. To reminisce with her about their good old days, and maybe even tell children and grandchildren about some of the dumb shit they used to get up to when the bosses weren’t looking. He wants to make choices about the upstairs renovation with her preferences accounted for, and teach her how to undercoat the corners of a room properly, and watch her try to keep an herb garden alive with the schedules they keep. He wants her to be the mother of his kids, if she wants that too. And if not, they will at least talk about it, and he’ll still die a happy man because she’ll be beside him in the old folk’s home.

He wants so much, but he still doesn’t think it’s selfish to ask for it. Only human. Maybe Jen realised the same thing. Or maybe she doesn’t care anymore that it’s selfish because she wants all of that regardless.

~0~

They rest as they often do, naked and close, with Jen draped over his chest and the sheet tucked half way up her back. It hasn’t become ordinary yet, to be together like this in quiet evening moments. Nick knows it might be one day – that some things which feel new and exciting soon fade to normalcy – but if he’s honest, he can’t wait for the day that lying naked in their bed at seven-pm is just something they do because it’s habit. He can’t wait for the day they have habits, besides the ones they developed living as the Claybournes, or the ones they picked up from too many late nights at the office. He’s looking forward to seeing what the rest of their lives looks like, which is one more thing he never thought much about before he met Jennifer.

“When do you want to tell everyone else?” he asks, running his fingers through her hair.

“Soon”, she sighs, contented and sleepy under his attention. “Not yet”

Nick’s hand pauses with a thought, then resumes again. “You okay?” he asks.

She smiles against his skin and then hoists herself up to kiss him soundly, like a reassurance, before resettling higher on his chest. He doesn’t want to seem needy, and he’d hate for her to think he’s fishing for compliments, but they’ve talked about this part of their relationship too; Jen knows he still sometimes needs reminding that she’s as invested in this as him. She always was, really, but fear and a long-held belief that everything else had to come second to the job had driven her to make what she thought was a noble sacrifice. She thought she was doing the right thing, breaking their hearts sooner rather than trying for everything and losing it later. She watched Wolfey – a man who would rather retire than leave Homicide – become distant from a family he loved, and she watched Waverley’s son murdered, and she looked at Jarvis and his lack of any significant others, and Jen had long gotten used to letting her personal life take a backseat when Nick waltzed right into it. She doesn’t love Nick less than he loves her; she’s just not as good as him at _being_ in love. She once made the mistake of not asking him to teach her, and she won’t do it again.

Nick approaches this relationship with his typical quiet determination, like it will all work out in the end so long as he sits back with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. He does things on gut instinct, whereas she’s the cautious one, and despite his influence Jen still isn’t used to letting things _just happen_. She has busted her arse for the things she’s achieved, so the idea that she could’ve got to Homicide by _relaxing_ is the stupidest thing she’s ever heard. Jen is a planner, and that always served her work well. The problem was that she never quite figured out how to approach the rest of her life differently, and before Nick, that wasn’t really an issue at all.

And so she ran. Because Jennifer has run before, and running is easy. Running is the safer option. And she told herself it was kinder, because the future is scary and unknown and if she could work with Nick it would make up for not marrying him, fighting with him, divorcing him, drinking too much wine over him. She ran away, until she thought he was dead. And then she turned on her heel and ran right back into his arms, and Nick knows that she intends to keep her nose firmly in his direction for the rest of her life. He’s not grateful for the way she hurt him the first time, because he honestly would have preferred not to go through it, but it shows in stark clarity just how brave a decision it is for Jen to be with him like this now. Nick wonders how much she struggled with it – knows it must have been quite a lot – and he figures Dane Majors caused several revelations, really, which is annoying on principle.

“I’m enjoying having you all to myself, without worrying what my bosses will think if they find out”, she says with a grin, squeezing him closer.

Nick understands what she means. This little period of suspension is different to secrecy, but once everyone else knows it will change things. For now, only their superiors know about it, and it’s unexpectedly lovely. They can have this all to themselves, but it’s not forbidden, and their jobs are safe, and it’s like picking up where they left off without any of the anxiety that sat quietly in the background.

When the crew know, things will be different. They’ll be kept apart on cases more often, and it’ll take everyone a while to get used to the idea of them coming and going together; to get used to hearing stories about _their_ weekend. It won’t be bad, but it will be strange, and people are nosey and their mates are Detectives, so of course there will be questions and looks, and in the beginning everyone will no doubt wonder just how long it will last. Nick knows he will prove the doubters wrong, and maybe they’re making a mountain out of a molehill considering how close he and Jen have always been anyway, but he understands why Jen wants to spend a few weeks luxuriating in this little space and time that’s all their own.

He squeezes her in return and grins as he looks her over. “I’m glad you’re here”, he says softly, longing and desire building slowly again as he runs his hands over her back and shoulders. He means more than just _in my bedroom_, and they both know it.

“I’m not going anywhere”, she replies into his skin. “I finally figured out what I want”

Nick’s eyes pour over her, and he places one hand against her jaw, his fingers lightly digging into the base of her skull as he coaxes her to look up at him. “And what’s that?” he asks with a grin.

Jen smiles back, not quite so wide – her inability to choose him last time will always sting, no matter how often he forgives her, because she can’t say she would do anything differently even knowing what she knows now. But Nick knows that, too. And he doesn’t blame her for it; her ambition was always one of the things he liked most about her. He’s just glad she found a way to live with these moments alongside the ambition, and that she found the words to talk to him about it.

And then she kisses him once, lightly but with a hint of teasing. “You”, she says, and leans in again. And really, it was that simple all along.

Her kiss deepens just as her stomach grumbles loudly, and they break away in a fit of giggles. His eyes are brighter when he lets loose his full smile, and ever since she pointed it out he’s been doing it more and more.

“Come on then”, he grunts, pushing at her shoulders as they continue to scoff and chuckle and his growing erection wanes. “Better get you some dinner”

He takes a moment to watch her as she launches from the bed and fishes around for his shirt, discarded somewhere on his bedroom floor, doing up the buttons out of alignment and flicking her hair from the collar. She gives him a sly grin when she notices him looking, but says nothing. Most of her clothes have migrated over here over the last few weeks, but there are still a lot of boxes over at her house. Enough that they call this place _Nick’s_, and pretty soon they’re going to need to have the conversation about what they do with property and furniture, and he’ll have to clear out cupboards to make space for all her linen and kitchenware, and they’ll probably go shopping for some new stuff to call theirs. And even when everything is in one house he knows she will still steal his shirts and smirk at the way he likes it.

Eventually Nick pushes the sheet back and goes in search of some trackies to wear, and they walk through to his kitchen half naked and hand-in-hand.

~0~

Nick can’t help but turn his eyes heavenward when he hears Matt’s voice call out behind them. Of all the bloody places to run into someone on their first weekend off in forever, it’s the middle of Chadstone, and it’s bloody Matt. And of course, Nick’s arm is over and around Jen’s shoulders, his hand lightly held in hers as she leans into his side and teases him about the claw-foot tub she’s demanding he install when he gets around to renovating upstairs.

They aren’t usually so demonstrative, but then… well, actually, often they are. Because they _can_ now; because holding hands is nice, and throwing his arm around her to pull her in and growl about her design choices is something they never got to do before. They were so used to living in shadows and unsaid truths that it’s like being a teenager again to walk around Chaddy being a goof with his partner. Not his fake wife, or secret girlfriend, but his honest-to-God _partner_, in every sense of the word, and doesn’t that just give him a shit-eating grin.

They turn and face the wrath of Matt, with his mouth wide open and a bag from a suit shop in his hand. Faintly, Nick remembers him mentioning needing a new work suit. Far be it for Matt to go to the outlets on Bridge Rd or wherever, oh no, he had to come to Chadstone. On the same day as them. Of course.

“What the fuck?” says Matt, and he’s definitely spluttering now.

Jen’s shoulders tense, but she doesn’t let go of Nick’s hand. Instead it’s Nick who pulls away, only to take her other hand at their sides, shuffling their bags between them. When he looks at her, Jen’s cheeks are bright red, and he wishes for her sake that it wasn’t so bloody awkward between Matt and everyone since he made Sergeant, even if things have calmed down lately. But it’s not Nick’s problem that they have some weird unrequited and one-sided history. And it’s not their fault Matt chose to take a Sergeant’s spot at Homicide at the risk of everything else, so Nick says nothing and instead looks back at Matt’s gapping, shocked face.

His eyes run over them both – from the shared bags of new towels and a wardrobe organiser and some smelly candles, to the clutch of their hands – and there is absolutely no way to see this as anything but what it is; a couple on a shopping trip. A _couple_. Shopping for _house things_. _Together_.

“How long has this been on, then?” he asks, too shocked to not be rude.

They glance at each other; they haven’t yet worked out the story of what to tell people. They never really got the story straight back when Jen knew too much about Nick’s house and Nick’s bedroom and all the things she shouldn’t have known when he was missing. A couple of people suspected, of course, but there was Juliette in the mix and Nick and Jen never explained, and then their world turned upside down, and so maybe the team wondered but by the time the whole thing got sorted any questions were left alone.

“A few months”, says Jen.

“On and off”, adds Nick, thinking briefly, painfully, to all that Juliette represented.

_Almost a year, if you count the drinks we used to go on_, they both think to themselves, but they don’t put a name to those precious early days so it’s not really part of their official timeline.

And there’s more to it than that, but thankfully they don’t need to explain to Matt anything so routine as _but we’ve known each other for years, we were kind-of married for a bit, definitely already fought about making the bed and stacking the dishwasher and muddy shoes through the house, so we’ve already done the hard bits and we’ve earned this relationship._ Matt won’t care, and it’s none of his business anyway, but it’s good that he at least knows some of it for the sake of Jennifer losing the blush on her neck. This relationship is both very sudden and a long time coming, and few will ever understand.

“Does Wolfe know?” he asks. Poor Matt, thinks Nick, but doesn’t let go of Jen’s hand.

“He does”, she answers. “And we were going to tell you soon, Matty, I promise”

They’ve been back together for just under eight weeks – shy of two months – and so far it hasn’t been mentioned again by the bosses so they figure they must be in the clear. Nick’s glad they didn’t tell Matt when they told Wolfe; just the fact of them being together is enough to knock Matt on his arse, let alone if they did it in the middle of a work day. But Nick still refuses to feel bad that they are finally making choices for themselves without worrying how other people might react to it.

He still feels bad Matt found out like this.

“Next weekend”, says Jen, sudden and almost without thought. “A barbeque at our place”

“Your place”, repeats Matt, dumbfounded. The idea that they have a _place_, that is theirs and somewhere she can make decisions like hosting a barbeque on the weekend. Just like he and Emma used to do, before he made his choices.

And maybe Matt’s reaction to Europe played in Jen’s mind too, for a while. He loved Emma so much, enjoyed going home to her, but they all remember the way he shut down the idea of taking two years off the job as though it was the most ludicrous thing in the world. He stopped talking to the woman he loved and rejected the idea of living in France – _Paris! _Jen remembers thinking, _how exciting!_ – because they are Homicide cops, and his career track was the most important thing in the world to him, and nothing would ever beat that.

Jen used to think the same thing. So did Nick, probably, before they met each other. It was Jen, after all, who made him realise he had to fight for his career and clear his name, regardless of whether they decided to get back together. The job has always been so much of who they are. But Jen feels differently now that she knows she would gladly lose her mind to boredom at Fraud for the sake of being with Nick. When she was confronted with the proverbial choice – a life at Fraud with Nick at home, or a life at Homicide with Nick dead in the ground – it had been no choice at all. Being married to this job is so ingrained in them all that it never occurred to her Nick might be different, or that he would gladly take the hit for her sake, and she hurt him deeply insinuating that he wouldn’t; she broke his trust making choices to that effect without even talking to him about it first.

Matt was just one more contemporary who put the job before anything else, and they’re all happy for him that he made Sergeant, but Nick wonders if Matt will always think the cost was worth it. He’d like to think that he offered Jen two years living in Europe she’d take it with both hands and work out the details later. He knows now that they would at least bother to have the argument about it, and that kind of assurance feels good.

“Nick’s place”, Jen corrects, and the blush creeps back.

“Right”, says Matt, nodding and putting his hand in his pocket and looking at the floor.

“We’ll provide the beer”, says Jen with a smile. A James Boag’s slab is a small price to pay to smooth the waters. Matt must feel hurt that they went above him to talk to Wolfey about it. Again, thinks Nick, not my problem. But Jen is too kind, and they’ve all just found their equilibrium, so he says nothing.

“Yeah. Yep, sounds good Jen”, says Matt. “I’ll see you guys on Monday- tomorrow! I’ll see you in the morning”

And then he walks away. Nick searches for her gaze, hoping to figure out if she’s okay, but someone walking past them bumps her shoulder and she jostles into Nick’s chest. Her hand squeezes his, still clutched tightly together by their sides.

“Well, that went well”, she says with a look.

“Come on”, he replies, rolling his eyes again. “Let’s go get a coffee and work out what we’ll need for this barbeque I hear we’re hosting”

Jen grins at him in contrition, trying in her way to apologise for dropping them in it without asking him first. But Nick’s not mad at all, and he’ll be even less mad when she buys him a coffee and says that if they ever get a shot at living overseas, they should look into taking leave and do some intensive language classes. It will probably never happen – they don’t really know what’s going to happen in the future, besides doing it together – but it’s new and exciting to spitball these ideas between them all the same. Almost like they used to do, back when they were pretending they weren’t dating. And every conversation undoes a little of the damage inflicted by not talking properly the last time, so Nick will gladly entertain judo classes or birdwatching trips or any amount of French tutoring if it means they get to talk about it.

They walk in the opposite direction of Matt, hand in hand, back towards the David Jones end of the shops where there are some quiet cafes, where they’ll be less likely to run into any wayward Homicide detectives out and about on the weekend.

~0~

Nick’s upstairs deck is an absolute shitshow. Jen has never used that exact word to his face, but they both know it’s pretty bad. It a huge space, sitting at the front of property above the front door, with some pots and a cheap outdoor setting; but the boards are all dry and warped, and there’s nothing pretty or finished about it. There’s one leaky storage box wedged awkwardly in the corner, and the big glass doors to the upstairs room are so heavy they cause perpetual leaking and cracking around the frame. Nick put the barbeque up there when he first moved in so he could fix up the downstairs courtyards, and never bothered to move it back, and he’s never used the deck for anything but quiet reading time alone.

They still invite everyone around for a barbeque though, which consists of Nick using the barbeque to cook and the rest of them settling into his big dining table downstairs. The study alcove is finally done and there are a couple of smelly candles burning that almost cover the smell of fresh paint. Jen would have hosted at her house, but she’s in the process of selling furniture and making enquiries for renting it out, and all her smaller stuff is already at Nick’s place. Soon to officially be _their_ place. She swayed him on the claw-foot tub upstairs, after all. The promise of a dream they can fulfil together.

People must know why they’re here. _We’ve got something to talk to you about_, was accompanied by Jen opening Nick’s front door to greet them, and there are boxes of her knick-knacks stacked in the corner ready to find a home, and some of her DVDs in piles by the television. Unless Nick has taken a fancy to the full Sex and the City boxset, but Rhys doubts that very much. It’s obvious that Jen didn’t just arrive early, and so they all know. But there’s something about admitting it out loud that causes a shockwave around the room all the same.

“Jennifer and I are moving in together”, says Nick. He very wisely refilled all the drinks first to keep them distracted. Allie still chokes on her beer.

Dunny is the one they look to for help, because he can’t stop grinning at them madly, ecstatic and amused and disbelieving all at once. Matt is silent at the table nursing his beer, and Nick imagines he’s a bit pissy, and probably will be for a while. But he offers Jen a smile, and shakes Nick’s hand, and it feels forced but at least he’s trying. Maybe Wolfey had a word to him during the week or something.

“I didn’t even know you were dating”, says Allie, and she looks genuinely hurt that she got left out of the secret.

“None of us did”, says Rhys. Which is mostly true, at least officially, but now they’ve said it out loud a lot of pennies seem to drop because nobody protests or offers excuses, and it somehow seems… _right _isn’t the best word, and _inevitable_ implies they didn’t walk into this with eyes wide open, but there’s a certain serendipity to it that sits well with everyone, all shock and awe aside. Jen and Nick have a history, and did a good job of keeping it under wraps, and it’s obvious in the way they are with each other at work that they’d be a good match at home too. It makes _sense_, which is exactly how Nick feels when Rhys tries to make a joke about his bachelor pad being invaded.

Duncan goes and finds Nick upstairs a short while later, the barbeque sizzling away under his careful eye.

“So, you and Jen, huh?”

“It’s been a long time coming”, says Nick, tipping his beer towards Duncan, who just smiles and pats him on the back. He might not know their full story, but from what he does know and what he’s seen today there is a solid foundation for their friends to build a future on, and he’s happy for them. He stands by Nick’s side looking around while Nick turns sausages; both of them letting the silence sit for a minute.

“You’re gonna need to do something about this deck”, says Dunny after a time.

Nick snorts and nods. Whatever he means by the comment – whatever reasons they may have to make it more hospitable in the years to come – he knows it needs some serious work. Nick has been mentally preparing himself to re-do the entire upper level for a few years now, once the downstairs is finished, but it’s a mammoth of a job with what he has in mind.

“I’m thinking of doing a master suite up here”, he replies, and then turns around to survey the space while the meat cooks behind him. “Put in a half wall at the top of the stairs, turn the rest into a bed and bath”

Dunny nods and then looks about, picturing it in his mind. It’s a nice plan. It will work for a couple who so rarely entertain it won’t really matter if people never come upstairs.

“You could maybe do some seats along that wall”, says Duncan, gesturing around the decking. “Even a veggie patch if you want”, and he’s only half joking about it. Neither Nick nor Jen have ever seemed the veggie patch kind of people, but they also didn’t seem like the kind of people to move in together after only a couple of months. People change, and so do plans.

“Maybe”, says Nick, taking a swig of his beer. “I’ll see what Jen says”

And Duncan laughs and calls him _whipped _and Nick just shrugs as if to say he likes it that way, which he absolutely does, and that’s about the end of it. By the time the tray of sausages and steaks and hamburgers are served inside, the conversation has moved on from Nick and Jen as though they never dropped any big news at all. Except for Allie, who just won’t quit giving them strange looks that Nick pointedly ignores.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For imaidenpride’s prompt: “The crew finding out that the pair is engaged”

~0~

**Chapter 3:**

Nick doesn’t bother waiting any longer to propose. They both know it’s what they want, what they have risked their positions for and why they came back together, and Nick’s been in love with her for a while now but he’s _loved _her, in one way or another, for years. They’ve already been husband and wife under one name; he wants to do it again with their own names, and forever. And he doesn’t want to give fate any more chances to screw this up. So it’s not a complete surprise that they get engaged so soon, but the location seems to take Jennifer aback.

This is one more thing that has to be done _the right way_, not because Nick gives a toss about making some public gesture, but because in years to come they will have so many stories that revolve around the job and the station and other coppers, and he wants at least one memory that is just the two of them and a candlelit table at Grossi’s. He even went and picked the ring himself, trying desperately to remember if she ever specified her tastes, and fairly confident that she never did. Jen wears rings sometimes, she isn’t against them, but picking _the ring_ was bloody nerve-wracking. He likes how normal the feeling was standing in the jewellers, trying to do a good job for a woman who’d love whatever he chose for her.

Jen must know it’s coming, because it’s not a birthday or any other special occasion warranting a forty-eight-dollar plate of gluggy gnocchi. She indulges him all the same, wearing a beautiful teal dress he’s seen once before, with dangly earrings and a glitzy clutch, and she even attempts to add a curl to her hair. She gets all glammed up and lets him pay for a cab to the city, and open her doors, and just generally spoil her in a way they never normally bother with because they aren’t those types. But just this once, she pretends she is, and loves every second.

He hadn’t planned to get down on one knee. Their table is in a corner, behind a small alcove and relatively unseen, so he takes the gamble just after their desserts arrive and watches Jen’s face light up with delight and amusement over his sincerity. Only two other tables notice, and everyone waits until Jen tearfully nods her head and holds out her hand for him to slip the ring on, then they clap quietly and smile, and it’s a perfect balance of schmaltzy and discrete. Nick laughs at her a little bit – wipes two tears from her face and is surprised when she does the same for him. But he doesn’t feel embarrassed about crying; this is everything he never knew he wanted until he met Jennifer, and now it’s his. And he is hers. They eat their desserts with massive grins, holding hands over the table, and Nick’s never been an effusive man but he feels ten feet tall and ready to run into the street screaming _she said yes!_

If only the people around them understood what it took to get here.

~0~

Telling the team they’re engaged feels much more daunting than telling them they’re living together. There’s permanence to marriage that’s a lot harder to undo, and they are both acutely aware that it signals a very big change to how seriously people will take this relationship. Jen’s also not looking forward to answering questions about what the wedding will look like and whether they want kids; her and Nick are still figuring that out for themselves, between themselves, and it’s not that they don’t want to share, it’s that she doesn’t _know_ yet.

Nick is patient with these conversations, assuring her at every turn and with his every action that he really is here for her. He has contemplated having kids more and more since they got back together – if they want to start trying, time is running out; he’s already forty and Jen is skipping into her late thirties. But he won’t pressure her, knowing it didn’t work last time to ask for too much too soon, and he knows Jen has been turning her mind to whether she wants to start looking at promotion in the next couple of years. Which will mean leaving Homicide anyway, because she absolutely won’t be doing as Matt did and come back to her old team.

Seeking promotion will mean their focus stays on career, but moving out of Homicide to do it might make a family easier to juggle. Staying in Homicide means they stay together at work, but Nick can’t really go looking elsewhere, what with the hit his reputation took, so if he wants to leave it’ll be back to uniform. Or maybe an office-bound gig if another boss likes him enough to give him a go. There are a lot of options before them; a fork in the road they’ve both been studiously ignoring, eager to enjoy being together without the pesky conversations about what comes next.

But Nick makes sure to mention some of these ideas anyway, and Jen answers him honestly when he does. One step at a time, the wedding first, and finishing the house, and then maybe look at whether a kid will fit into their career plans and timelines. Or the other way around, whichever comes first. And even after all that, anything can happen, life turns on a dime and they’ll take it as it comes. Together. Always together, and that’s the key.

But the first of those baby steps is telling everyone they’re engaged.

They don’t care for any big announcement this time. Jen just starts wearing her ring to work and hopes her colleagues are as good at their jobs as they think they are. Amusingly, it’s Ronnie who notices first, the morning they head to the morgue for a Jane Doe. She reaches for it and clucks, and tells her it’s beautiful, and Jen smiles and tells her how Nick picked it out all on his own, and it almost feels normal, like it’s any other couple sharing their happy news.

If not for the dead body in front of them.

Once Allie notices, the news spreads like wildfire through the office – Jen is wearing an engagement ring. It’s simple and pretty, one larger rock with a smaller one either side on a gold band – _a bit traditional if you ask me_, says Allie on a whisper. _It’s Nick_, counters Dunny with a look as if to ask what else she would expect. She concedes the point and they all jump apart to continue looking through the personal effects of their Jane Doe, Jarvis stalking past and barking about them pulling fingers out.

Waverley comes down for a progress report and Jen presents her evidence against the whiteboard, and they all get tasked and start packing up. Waverley turns back to the front with an air of exaggerated casualness, her black folder in her arms.

“I hear congratulations are in order”, she says. Somehow, it’s only Jen, Nick and Jarvis left hanging around the readout room. Jarvis’ head whips over to Jen and his gaze flicks briefly to her stomach with a look of panic on his face, but then his gaze finds the ring on her finger and he lets out a huge sigh of relief.

“Yes. Thank you ma’am”, says Jen. Nick does a valiant job of not checking to see whether Jen is blushing. They’ve managed to keep it professional just like they promised they would, back when Waverley took a chance on them, and all these months later it feels like they have a leg to stand on. Nobody has busted them canoodling in the lift or giggling in the break room, because they make a point not to, and all those years of secrecy feel like good practice, like they have the necessary skills. But this isn’t secret anymore, and Jen holds up her hand awkwardly, confirming the presence of a ring as Waverley takes it in hers and has a look.

“Lovely”, she says, eyes smiling, and she nods once in approval. “I wish you all the best”

Jen smiles back. “Thank you ma’am”, she says. They both know what for.

Waverley turns to Nick, mutters a soft _nice choice Buchanan_, and then leaves.

“You better take care of our girl”, warns Jarvis, pointing a finger before he follows Waverley out of the room. Nick just snorts and bows his head. Then he looks up at Jen and sees her smiling, pursing her lips a little as she looks at the space Waverley was occupying. That’s the last they hear of it from her. Little does she know Nick intends to deliver a wedding invitation to her office himself, when they finally get around to deciding a date.

~0~

“We should do the Whitsundays. Maybe Hamilton Island”

Jen looks up from her newspaper, her coffee poised mid-air. She blows across the top of it while looking at him, and mutters _for what_ before taking a tentative sip. Nick invested in a proper barista machine for his kitchen years ago and he insists on making what he calls ‘real coffee’ every weekend just to make the expense feel worth it. He even remembers to buy her soy milk, a thoughtful but unnecessary gesture that she appreciates and he enjoys doing because it makes him feel domestic.

“For the honeymoon”

Jen scoffs, and nearly splutters, and when her throat is clear she chuckles a little bit at him. “Let’s organise the wedding first”, she says with a grin, shaking her head at him.

So far the extent of their wedding preparation has boiled down to having it at the Registry office. Jen’s fairly certain she’ll wear a simple white dress, and Nick is thinking of asking Dunny to be his best man, and if they get on the next leave roster nice and early they might snag ten days off together for the big day and a short holiday. But they haven’t been in any rush to iron out the details, and every time they have the chance to spend money on something it’s inevitably at Bunnings for one of the home improvement things Nick loves to do in his free time. The wedding feels a long way off for the moment.

“I’m just brainstorming”, he replies, giving her a look as if to say _let a man dream_. Jen smiles at him and takes another sip. The coffee is still a bit too hot for her, so she puts it down.

“I don’t care where we go, so long as we’re married”, she says.

They don’t necessarily want a long engagement, but there isn’t any rush to get the details organised just yet, with house renovations to finish between the ever-demanding schedules of their job. Jen’s old house has brand new tenants in it; a tidy little investment they can keep without much hassle. She joked that it would have been better to rent his place out and do all the work upstairs as a tax write-off, but that’s not the point of the activity, so it was only a joke. Nick’s a tinkerer – he always was, even in their shitty little undercover place all those years ago. And the process of picking and choosing wallpaper and paint colours – of turning that upstairs room with its beautiful big balcony into a full master suite – is more about them making this place their own than it is about adding any re-sale value. They plan to be in this house for a very long time.

“I’ll look into Alaskan tours, then”, says Nick. She glares at him and points her finger.

“You’re taking me somewhere warm, Buchanan. I’m not spending my honeymoon in puffy jackets”

He laughs at her and grabs at her finger to get it out of his face. “Hopefully you won’t be spending it in much of anything”, he replies as he leans closer to her over the corner of the table.

“That’s the idea”, she says, her tongue bitten lightly between her teeth.

Neither of them are big spenders, and they’ve both been smart about paying off their mortgages and maxing their super contributions with all their overtime allowances, so they’ve got a tidy little nest egg between them to have some real fun with. A lot of their free cash is being sunk into the house as they go, and they opened a joint offset account to plan for more in the future, whatever that may look like. But they’re fortunate to be in a position where Nick can joke about taking her to Europe and it could actually happen one day. The bigger overseas trip might have to wait until the house is done and they’ve saved up enough money and long service leave to take a couple of months off and do it properly.

But in truth, the idea of a week doing nothing but laying on a beach in as little clothing as possible sounds to Nick like something out of the dreams he used to have about their future, back when it wasn’t a reality. And the fact Jen will be with him – as his _wife_, which is simply the best thing he’s ever heard – makes the idea even sweeter. These were always the moments he loved the most, which probably contributed to the misunderstanding of expectations between them. When Nick said he wanted _Jen_ – in his life, in his home, in his bed – this is what he meant. The soft moments in between the chaos; the jokes and the coffee and the rare lazy mornings together talking about plans that may never happen, but it doesn’t matter. He just likes talking to her, about more than only murder victims. Knowing she understands that now, and accepts it, and embraces it as their shared life, is his new reason to get out of bed of a morning.

Nick leans over the corner of the table, mindful of their coffees, and kisses the grin right off her face. When he’s done – which takes a while – he pulls back and stares at her for a second with the most lovesick look, she can’t help but grin all over again.

“Come on”, he whispers. “Drink up so we can get to that market you wanna go to”

Jen flicks her eyes over his face as she reaches up and runs her fingertips over his cheek and jaw. The ring on her finger glints in the light. “You made my coffee too hot”, she says back, and holds back a laugh as lurches back into his seat with a huff.

“So it’s my fault we’re going to be late?” he says. He takes a sip of his own coffee, but he doesn’t mind it being hot so it doesn’t faze him.

“You can’t be late for markets”, she says. “It’s a market. There’s just… stuff. And people eating bad kebabs. And too many crocheted doilies”

Nick laughs at her but says nothing, just pulls the sports pages towards him and starts vaguely reading, not really paying attention to anything but the curve of Jen’s leg where it pokes out from under his shirt. She has her foot up on the support rung of his chair, her knee pointed towards him, and he reaches down to hold around the back of it and stroke her skin absently as they sip their coffees and enjoy the bright morning sun through the big dining room windows. There’s no rush, on this morning or with any of their plans. There’s no urgency anymore because they know they’ve got the rest of their lives to enjoy these moments together. And there’s no real need to go to the market for anything but a rare and nice day out in the sunshine and each other’s company, so if they don’t make it then it won’t really matter.

Nick sips his coffee and reads the first round of footy scores and tries not to pinch himself, because if this is a dream, he fully intends to stay in it for as long as humanly possible.

“Hey”, he says suddenly. “What’s your opinion on cats?”

Jen looks up at him with a slowly growing smile – a familiar look she gets these days as though she’s perpetually surprised to see him sitting there in her future. “I like cats”, she replies.

Nick just hums at her and goes back to reading, and Jen’s look turns into a smirk, and maybe they won’t get to a market today after all, but there are plenty of other places to visit on a warm and beautiful day.


End file.
